Tall, Dark & Fangsome ib-5

by Мишель Роуэн

  “It’s nobody, master,” Barry said pointedly. “And nobody was just leaving.”

  Oh, that was subtle.

  I tore my eyes away from Thierry as someone else came into view. Someone wearing a red dress, with long raven-colored hair, perfectly applied makeup and flawless ivory skin.

  “Sarah, my dear.” A smile spread across Veronique’s perfect face. She glanced at Thierry.

  “Is this an awkward moment?”

  Why, yes it is, thank you for asking.

  Thierry didn’t move his gaze from mine. “Not at all. Sarah and I have chosen to go our separate ways. There is nothing to be awkward about.”

  “And she’s leaving,” Barry said again. I resisted the urge to kick him sharply and make him cry.

  “I have been very curious,” Veronique began. “Whose idea was it for your relationship, short as it was, to end?”

  “Mine,” Thierry and I said in unison. He raised a dark eyebrow at me.

  “It was a mutual decision,” I clarified quickly.

  Veronique’s impeccably arched brows drew together. “It’s very strange to me. One moment you,” she nodded at Thierry, “are asking me for an annulment, and you,” she glanced at me, “are proclaiming your deep and earnest love for my husband—”

  I always cringed when she used that word.

  “—and the very same night your love affair ends.” She tilted her head to the side. “Very strange, wouldn’t you say?”

  Great. All we needed was Veronique doubting our story. Talk about the beginning of the end. If there was one person I didn’t trust to keep it quiet, it would be her. “Strange but true. What can I say? Can’t stand him now. I’m flaky like that.”

  There was silence for a long, torturous moment as she inspected me as if I was a slimy but curious specimen under a microscope.

  “Is it true that you’ve met with the Red Devil recently?” she asked.

  My cheeks warmed. I guess there was no way to keep what happened a secret. It only brought back my shame at not being able to control myself. It was the reason today had to work out. I needed this curse gone. Even now with the gold chain firmly in place around my neck, I felt it there, lurking in the shadows of my mind, like a thick black poison waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity to take over again.

  I cleared my throat. “I met with him just for a moment. It was no big deal.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Thierry asked.

  “Yup. He’s in town again and wanted to say hello.”

  And stop me from murdering people. And be my bodyguard. Etcetera.

  I raised my eyes to look at Thierry again. He hadn’t taken his focus off me. His neutral gaze betrayed a sliver of concern.

  Would Veronique and Barry notice if I went directly over to him and kissed him?

  Wrapped my arms around him and told him how much I missed him and how I couldn’t wait until this was all over?

  Yeah, they’d probably notice. They were all observant like that.

  “So what’s going on here this morning?” I asked, wanting desperately to change the subject. “A vampire version of The Breakfast Club?”

  “It’s none of your business what we’re doing,” Barry replied sharply. “Like I told you earlier, Amy isn’t here. Therefore there’s no reason for you to be, either.”

  Again, I resisted the urge to kick him. “You’re right.”

  No Amy. No money. No curse breaking.

  “It is time for me to leave as well.” Veronique air kissed Thierry on both cheeks and then did the same to Barry.

  “Good-bye, Sarah,” Thierry said evenly.

  After he gave me one last deep, searching look, so deep that I actually felt it as if it were the brush of his lips against mine—I had a very good imagination—I turned and left.

  The door clicked shut behind me and Veronique the moment we stepped outside, and I heard the lock turn. Barry wasn’t taking any chances of me sneaking back in.

  Veronique studied me intently. “One of my many talents is the ability to read people. I read you as being in love with my husband. Even now I see such longing and regret in your eyes.”

  At least she wasn’t treating me like a complete smelly piece of garbage, as Barry had. Her demeanor toward me seemed the same as always—dismissive, but vaguely curious.

  I forced a shrug. “What can I say? The man is easy on the eyes. But it doesn’t change anything.” I hesitated. “Besides, I’m sure there have been tons of women who’ve fallen for

  Thierry in the past, right?”

  I regretted asking it as soon as the words left my mouth, feeling a stab of jealousy at the thought of other women in Thierry’s life. Knowing he was married was enough of a cross to bear.

  “Of course,” Veronique said simply.

  I swallowed. “Oh.”

  “However,” she continued, “this annulment nonsense has never been mentioned before. I still wonder what exactly got into him to even broach that subject after so long. If I didn’t know better, I would have assumed he meant for you to have a future together.” She looked at me for a moment. “Are you all right, my dear? You’ve become rather pale suddenly.”

  Any mention of my future with Thierry tended to make me feel a bit woozy around the edges. That’s what I wanted. Despite our multitude of problems, I wanted to be with him, and everything currently happening seemed tailor-made to keep us apart. It’s like I was fighting fate itself. I never really believed in the concept before, but I’d lately come to learn that fate was one hell of a mean beeyotch.

  “I’m fine. I’m just a bit distracted today.” I glanced over at George’s car. He’d hunched down in the seat a bit so he was mostly out of view, except for the top of his sandy-blond head and sunglass-covered eyes peering over the edge of the driver’s-side window like

  “Kilroy Was Here.” Veronique intimidated him, so avoidance was his preferred course of action.

  “Distracted because of… your little curse, perhaps?” she asked.

  Everyone knew about my problems. I guess when your problem was turning black-eyed and scary as hell, that was a given.

  I nodded. “It actually has everything to do with my curse. But there’s more than that on my mind, as well.”

  “Like the Red Devil? You truly saw him?”

  “In the flesh.” I nodded. “And mask.”

  Another glance at the car showed George was beckoning for me to wrap things up with

  Veronique. Time was money, after all. Money I didn’t currently have. Would the wizard only see me today? When exactly was he moving out of the country? Why was nothing ever easy?

  Veronique’s expression lit up. “The Red Devil is magnificent, isn’t he? I wonder if he’s exactly the same as when he saved my life so long ago—so strong and brave and handsome.”

  “And dangerous?” I asked, thinking of Gideon’s assessment. “And deadly?”

  “All of those things.” She let out a strange little sigh of contentment. “I would assume he’s a magnificent lover as well, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Oh, boy. I glanced at my naked wrist. “Wow, look at the time. I really need to get going.”

  “So many years have passed,” she continued, undeterred, “I wonder if he’d still remember me? Well, of course he would. Perhaps we could begin again where we left off.”

  “I don’t see why not.” I took a few determined steps toward the car. Veronique was difficult to get away from once she’d started chatting about her favorite subject—herself.

  “In non-Red-Devil-related news, I’ve found somebody who might be able to remove my curse.”

  She reached forward and squeezed my hand. “That’s wonderful, my dear. Such an unpleasant thing, curses are. I really don’t recommend them.”

  “I totally agree.”

  She frowned at me. “For such good news you seem rather distraught. Is there a problem?”

  I chewed my bottom lip. “Actually, there is. There’s a cost associated with the curse
removal. If I can’t pay for it, the wizard is moving soon and I’ll be out of luck. Being that

  I’m el broko, I don’t really know what to do.”

  “How much is it?”

  “Two thousand bucks.”

  “That sounds reasonable.” She reached into her Prada bag. “Will hundred-dollar bills be acceptable?”

  My eyes widened and I was about to say something to protest, but my hand jutted out as if it had a mind of its own. She counted out twenty one-hundred-dollar bills into it from the

  Banque de Veronique.

  “I… I can’t take your money,” I stuttered.

  She closed my hand over the wad of cash. “Of course you can. And you will. And you will rid yourself of this horrible burden once and for all.”

  I felt tears welling inside me. Scratch every bad thing I’d ever said or thought about

  Veronique, she was incredibly warm, selfless, caring, generous—

  “And you will thank me by setting up a meeting between myself and the Red Devil,” she said, “so we can become lovers.”

  —and rather horny, apparently.

  I looked from her to the cash, and back again. Then I shoved the bills into my purse. “I’m sure you’ll make a lovely couple.”

  “You must also find a new lover. A vampire’s life can be very long and very lonely.” She pressed her full red lips together for a wistful moment. “It is best to share it with someone special if you can.”

  “I totally agree.” I looked back at Barry’s house, picturing Thierry inside. So near and yet so far. “Unfortunately, love can sometimes be a bit complicated.”

  I noticed that Barry stood at the front window. He gave me the finger.

  A half hour later I rang the doorbell at the address Claire had given me.

  “This is great,” George said when I glanced nervously at him. “I can finally get rid of the stun gun I carry around at all times to protect myself from your dark side.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Actually… I’m not joking.”

  I touched my gold chain. I wasn’t close to relaxing about this. Not until it was done. But at least I had the money. I’d play matchmaker between Veronique and the Red Devil even though I wasn’t totally sure I trusted him. It was so worth it if this worked out.

  A moment later, the door opened and a young kid, probably around fourteen years old, looked out at us. He had long, stringy dark hair, and a morose expression. He wore a black T-shirt with a picture of a morose-looking, stringy-haired rock band on it.

  “What?” he asked, succeeding in making the single word sound as unfriendly as possible.

  I frowned and looked down at the address I’d scrawled on a yellow sticky note. “I’m looking for a Steven Kendall.”

  “For what?”

  My jaw clenched, but I forced a smile. “A business matter. Is that your father? Can you get him for me? It’s kind of urgent.”

  He studied me through narrowed eyes. “Are you the vampire?”

  I glanced at George, then back at the kid. “Vampire?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, are you or aren’t you?”

  I swallowed. “I am. But I’m a nice one, I promise.”

  “Depends on the day, really,” George said from next to me. I elbowed him in the ribs.

  The kid opened the door wider. “Come in, but we’re going to have to make this quick. My mom’s at the grocery store and she’ll be back soon.”

  “And your father?”

  “Last time I checked, he was dead,” the kid said without any emotion. “And if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay that way.”

  “Okay.” I blinked slowly. “So, that leads me to believe that you’re Steven.”

  “I don’t go by that name. You need to call me The Darkness.”

  “The Darkness,” I repeated.

  “That’s right.”

  “Maybe I’ll just wait in the car,” George said, but I hooked my arm in his and dragged him into the bungalow. I wasn’t facing “The Darkness” without him.

  The wizard Claire had found was a teenager. An obviously hate-filled, Goth-boy Harry

  Potter.

  I could deal. It would be fine. After all, it’s not as though I had much of a choice in the matter. This had to work. If it didn’t, my only option to break my curse was to hand the

  Red Devil over to Gideon and get the grimoire. But since I’d already agreed to hand him over to Veronique, his schedule was already very full.

  “You have the money?” the kid asked.

  I nodded.

  “Then follow me.” He led us down a flight of creaky stairs to a basement with wood paneling and a deer head mounted on the wall. An orange vinyl couch lined the opposite wall and a chipped imitation wood coffee table sat blandly on top of a white, retro shag throw rug. There were piles of packing boxes everywhere, a sign of The Darkness’s upcoming move. Other than that, a hundred candles flickered—a fire hazard that I chose not to comment on—strategically placed leading toward a desk holding a computer tower and monitor.

  “Money first,” The Darkness said, holding out his hand.

  I clung onto George’s arm. “I’m going to be really up front with you. I was expecting somebody older. I don’t want to get scammed here.”

  “You have a curse.” He sat down in front of the computer and tapped away on the keyboard for a moment. “I can eradicate it for you. Wipe it away completely.”

  I glanced at George, who shifted his feet uncomfortably, then returned my attention to the teenager, who looked over his shoulder at us. “So it’s some kind of a reversal spell?”

  “Not exactly.”

  My stomach dropped. “Then what are we doing here?”

  He rolled his eyes again. “Reversal spells are unstable magic and they’re not my thing.

  When dealing with another witch’s spells or curses, I have to go deeper with my own magic.”

  “What exactly does that mean?” George asked.

  The kid leaned back in the chair, swiveled around, and studied me, starting at my feet, up my jeans to my purple blouse. He stopped and blatantly stared at my breasts for about ten full seconds. I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Hello?” I prompted. “Earth to The Darkness.”

  “I get half the money now,” he said. “Half when it’s done. But you’ll have to give the money to your friend so I can make sure I’ll get it.”

  “What do you mean, ‘make sure you’ll get it’? If the spell works, then I’ll pay you.

  Believe me, you will have earned every penny as far as I’m concerned.”

  He shook his head and forked his fingers through his greasy hair. “I already told you, this isn’t a spell, it’s an eradication. I have to use dark magic for this, that’s why it’s not cheap.”

  “Why is an eradication different from a spell?” George asked.

  The kid glanced at his computer screen again. Even the website he had his browser set to looked creepy—skulls, caskets, black background, purple text. A laser eye surgery waiting to happen.

  “I’ve never done one on a vampire before. I’m pretty excited about it.” Excited or not, his expression didn’t change from sullen. “An eradication is taking a handful of black magic, shoving it into the subject’s very soul, and scooping out the curse.”

  I shuddered. “Sounds like a macabre trip to Baskin-Robbins.”

  “There will be side effects, of course.”

  Claire hadn’t mentioned anything like that. “What kind of side effects?”

  “Sit down.”

  “I’m not so sure about—”

  “You want this curse gone, or what?” He looked annoyed with all my questions now.

  “Like I said, my mother is going to be back any minute, and if she catches me doing another eradication then I’m going to be grounded.” He touched his rock band T-shirt.

  “And if I miss seeing Death Suck in concert this week I’m going to kill myself.”

&n
bsp; I sat down on the vinyl couch and it squeaked in protest. Then I handed George the money, which he folded and slid into his pocket.

  “If anything goes wrong,” he said. “I promise to spend this on a fabulous flower arrangement for your funeral.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Again… not really joking. But let’s hope for the best, shall we?”

  The Darkness brought a black candle over to me and he waved it slowly in front of my face, so close for a moment that I felt my eyelashes singe. I jerked back from him. Then he dragged a chair over so he was facing me.

  “I need to concentrate,” he announced.

  “Are you going to tell me what the side effects are, or what?”

  “I will,” he snapped. “God, be patient, would you? Old people are so annoying.”

  I gritted my teeth. I would be patient with this little Emo-with-Attitude. I would. If I could get rid of my curse, I could be the most patient person in the universe. However, I felt the stress welling up inside me and ready to burst out of my chest. It took all my concentration to stay calm.

  Could he do it? Could he “eradicate” my curse? A line of perspiration slipped down my spine like a waterslide at an unamusement park.

  Relax, I commanded myself. Try to stay calm and think positive thoughts.

  I strained my mind and focused on an image of Thierry in a tuxedo. And me in a big, white, expensive gown. Getting married in a big, fancy church. It was one of my favorite calming fantasies.

  Ommm.

  “Half the money.” He stretched out a hand to George, who counted off a thousand dollars and gave it to the kid.

  “Okay.” The Darkness closed his eyes and then breathed out through his mouth. The scent of SpaghettiOs hit the air. “I need to concentrate. I need to allow the dark magic to fill me.”

  For a long, disappointing moment, I doubted this kid was anything other than a teenage scam artist. It was worth a try, but I felt that nothing would come of this. It was too easy.

  I appreciated Claire for trying, but this was too good to be true. I was about to stand up, grab Veronique’s money back, and walk out of the house instead of wasting any more of my time.